Sirens
by Cantbelieveitsnene
Summary: A collection of one shots documenting the lives of Danny Desai and Lacey Porter after their escape from Green Grove, NY. This takes place after the summer finale, and can be considered AU!


a/n: I posted this on my RP account at first, but I decided to post it again on here so that I can keep track of where it is :) I hope you guys enjoy. I plan on adding another chapter sometime this week.

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Lacey awoke to the sound of the engine cutting off.

Despite the heat trickling through the vents of the pickup truck, the cool November air effortlessly seeped through the cracks in the car door, creating a sharp chill whenever the wind blew. Or maybe it was just the fever playing tricks on her. She shuddered, pulling his large leather jacket closer to her body. A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips and the familiar feeling of calmness washed over her.

"Lacey…"

His voice sounded so distant, yet so within reach. She smiled wider and bit her lower lip. What if it wasn't real? What if the minute she opened her eyes, she found herself in her bed, clutching his jacket like a life line? It happened so many times before. Why not now? What made this dream so much different from the others?

"Lace, babe," a few calloused fingers gently pushed a few stray strands of hair from her damp forehead. She tried to swallow, but the white hot pain shot through her body from her throat, and she winced.

"My throat hurts," she whispered hoarsely, smirking weakly.

"I know, we're gonna get you better."

Even as she began to open her eyes, and blink the blurriness away, being there with him seemed unreal. She told herself that it was stupid to do it, that she'd regret it. That she could possibly become an accessory. She thought of her mother, her sister, her friends. She could almost see the disapproving looks on all their faces.

The two teenagers lost count of how long they'd been running. Had it been a few weeks? A month? Was it closer to Halloween, or was Thanksgiving a day away? She barely knew where they were. Some town not too far away from the city. White Plains, or something. They alternated who drove, who purchased the food, and who bought gas. Hotels weren't an option, due to their ages, and they couldn't use credit cards at the risk of being traced. Neither of them wanted to breach the subject, but the money was going, and it was going fast.

Slipping her arms into his jacket, Lacey shot him a small smile, "What do you plan on doing, Doctor Desai?"

The concern never left Danny's face as he gently stroked her hair, and looked her over. She looked so vulnerable, so small, and so pale. But she shot him a smile just to keep him at ease. He appreciated her effort, but all it did was make him feel like an even bigger piece of shit for letting her to go out in the rain for food. He knew his protests would fall on deaf ears. After all, it _was_ Lacey. But still, he should've done something…With the money getting tight, and gas running low, Danny panicked. Despite her best efforts to convince him that she could sweat the fever away, it'd been 2 days and she still shivered regardless of how high he turned the heat up in the truck. She shouldn't have come with him. She should've stayed home. She was supposed to be at home, bundled up in the blankets, drinking hot cocoa and listening to music. Not this.

He could've stopped her, but deep down he knew he wouldn't have, if given the chance.

"What do you plan on doing, Doctor Desai?" she whispered in a soft strained voice. It was a sharp contrast from the clear, demanding voice that he was used to, and it made his worry all the more evident. Running his fingers through his hair, he glanced over at the mini-mart across the street. He knew that they each had about $30 left to their names. With a deep sigh, Danny leaned across to the passenger seat, and pressed a lingering kiss to her hot forehead.

"I'll be right back, alright?"

Lacey weakly sat up in her seat and cleared her throat with a wince that Danny mirrored, sympathetically.

"Where are you going?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"The mini-mart. I need to get you some Nyquill…something," he unbuckled his seatbelt, and she reached her hand out to stop him.

"I told you I can get rid of it on my own."

"Lacey, you've been sick for two days. You need medicine-"

"Danny, _we_ need the money-"

"I know we need the money," he calmly countered, "Just…trust me, okay? I'll be right back."

"I told you, you don't have to-"

He gently shushed her and pressed another kiss to her forehead, "Your health is important. Quit trying to fight me." Danny dropped his head to meet her gaze and smirked at the scowling expression on her face, "Trust me on this, Lace. When have I ever let you down?"

"Are you kidding me? You actually _have _been-"

He gently shushed her once more and pressed a finger to her lips, "This is different," pulling on his wool cap, Danny chuckled, "Stop being so stubborn, gorgeous. You're being a bit of a downer."

He couldn't help but be a bit amused by the fact that even when sick, she was still just as fierce. She was still _his_ Lacey. Danny turned the collar of his heavy jacket up against the late night chill, and a cloud of white mist escaped as he chuckled to himself. The small grin on his lips faded with every step. The air was heavy with the scent of oncoming rain, which only motivated him to pick up the speed of his steps. His heavy boots crushed the dead leaves into the pavement below his feet, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

"Fuck," he mumbled pulling his cap lower. The moment he entered the small store, the petite, balding, middle aged woman of a cashier eyed him warily. It was late, nearly 1 in the morning. The store was desolate. Music from some local pop station filled the room from the speakers, which drowned out the irritating buzzing of a nearby flickering light.

The blue bottle was right behind the counter, all she had to do was turn her back. But the way she eyed him, with so much caution in her gaze, he knew it wasn't likely. The grin returned to his face, and he approached the spotless white counter.

"Hello, there" he leaned forward, and gently knocked on it with his knuckle, "I was wondering if you could get me the, uh, Nyquill? The one over there?" He pointed to the wall behind the counter where the bottle lay behind, what he assumed was, bulletproof glass.

The graying woman leered at him behind her thick rimmed glasses, "I need to see some I.D."

Danny chuckled, and returned her gaze with a lighthearted one of his own, "Come on…I.D? Really?"

"I.D," she repeated, firmly.

"Are you sure you can't just let this one slide? I mean…" he looked around the empty store, and leaned in closer, "Who's going to tell? I certainly won't. And you don't have to. Who's to say we can't just have this transaction and let it slide, huh?"

The woman squinted at him, "I'll give it to you, when I see some identification."

If he had to hear that word one more time…

He softened up his gaze a little more, allowing himself the smallest bit of vulnerability. Or rather, perceived vulnerability.

"Miss," he glanced at her name tag, "Danielle. I know you think that I'm some punk kid, trying to get 'slizzered'" he made air quotes around the word, "but in all honesty, I don't need it. My mom…she's really sick. Terribly, terribly ill. If it were up to her, she would walk down the street right now and get this herself. But I came here on my own, at one in the morning to do this for her. You see, I'm her only son. My father left us when I was a kid, so I had to be the man of the house. I gotta take care of her, you know? Hospitals are so expensive, and Nyquill is the only thing keeping her from coughing all night. So, please, can you find it in your heart to help me out?"

Danielle mirrored his lean in, and smirked back, mockingly. "You think I didn't just see you pull up across the street with your junkie girlfriend in the passenger side? You think I don't see her shaking from here?" Danny didn't need to follow her finger to know who she was ignorantly referring to. He clenched his jaw as she continued on, perfectly unaware, "I don't know what kind of game you think you're pulling, asshole. But it's late at night, I'm tired, I don't wanna be here, and I don't feel like dealing with your bullshit. I ain't gonna give ya any Nyquill, so either you buy something, or you get the fuck out!"

Something within him switched on, and he decided that being charming wouldn't get him anywhere. Some people were just too damn stupid to take the easy bait. They preferred maliciousness. But if that's what they wanted, that what they'd get.

With a fixed jaw, Danny stared at her. His eyes never once left hers, and through clenched teeth, with as much cool calmness as he could muster, he replied, "Either you give me the fucking Nyquill, or I take it, and you end up with a bashed in head. Your choice." His eyes flickered and he caught her reaching under the counter, and he glared at her, "Don't even think about it."

All the bravado that she claimed to have disappeared in an instant, and her wide blue eyes stared at him. He could see the fear in them. Whether it was fear of his words, or the sudden shift in the conversation, he wasn't particularly sure of. But he watched as she, with shaking hands turned and unlocked the glass door behind them. As she turned her back, Danny dipped his hand behind the counter, and felt for whatever she was reaching for. His hand brushed something cold and heavy. A gun. He grabbed it and shoved it in his jacket pocket. Why? He wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it would become useful later on. He could almost chuckle at his own over the top thinking. It's not like he knew a lot about firing guns. But considering there were two sixteen year olds on the road, the protection could be necessary.

At least that's what he convinced himself.

The older woman handed him the Nyquill and he quickly shoved it in his pocket. Scaring her into giving him what he wanted seemed a little too easy. What exactly could come out of an empty threat? Unless-

"Fuck-" she ran into the manager's office and shut the door, locking it behind her. He could hear her dialing the numbers on her cell phone, and he broke into a run, pushing the door to the store open as hard as he could. The cold air and harsh winds brought tears to his eyes and stung his cheeks, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't risk getting caught. The pounding in his ears seemed to motivate him to keep going. Even as his boots slammed into the pavement, and he reached the car, his adrenaline was at an all time high.

Jumping into the cab of the truck, he slammed the door shut, waking Lacey from her fever-induced slumber. Without uttering a single word, Danny kick started the engine, pulled out of his spot on the sidewalk, and sped down the road.

Realizing what was going on, Lacey shot upright in her seat. "Danny- What are we…?"

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the inevitable police sirens. It was stupid. It wasn't like he actually hurt the woman. He just…scared her a bit. Once they were at a reasonable distance away from the store, and his heart began to slow down to a normal pace, his foot lightened its pressure on the pedal and he sighed, shooting his best friend a small grin.

Lacey glared at him, and if she weren't so sick, it might've actually been intimidating. Instead, he chuckled and leaned back in his seat.

"I got your Nyquill," he replied, shrugging.


End file.
